


Brace For It (This Means War)

by EmeraldHeiress



Series: Ad Aglaophotis [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alpha Roman Sionis, Alpha Slade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BAMF Slade, Don't copy to another site, Explicit Language, F/M, Female Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Omega Jason Todd, Rescue, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 02:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress
Summary: “You really want to hope that the distress signal went to the Bats.” She whispered hoarsely, malice sparkling in her eyes beside the agony. “Because my mate was scheduled to be back in town tonight and if he’s within 50 miles the signal gets sent to him instead.”A feral grin stretched across her mouth, blood staining her teeth. “How lucky are you feeling tonight, Roman?”





	Brace For It (This Means War)

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a few months after Vertigo but no specific amount of time.

Jay choked on a scream as she floated back into consciousness. The searing pain in her side almost sent her right back out again. Normally, she’d have better control over herself, play possum a little longer to get the lay of things. But there was no point.

She knew where she was: hanging from the rafters in one of Black Mask’s run-down warehouses. Also, frankly, it was rather difficult to feign unconsciousness when you’re strung up, shoulders nearly wrenched from their sockets when a knife buries itself in your side. She supposed that was one way to wake up a prisoner. 

_ Why hadn’t she taken Sionis out when she was Pit-Mad psychotic a few years back? _

She breathed deeply and opened her eyes. They were doing that idiotic spotlight bullshit now and she winced at the glare. Roman, with that stupid mask, stood in front of her, his whole body screaming cocky satisfaction. A handful of his men formed a loose ring behind him, eagerly watching. 

She noted they were a new set. The last few had already had a turn at playing pinata. They would be after revenge for the ones she’d taken down in the fight to capture her. She _hadn’t _been taken _easily_.

“Welcome back.” The man drawled, dipping his fingers in the blood trickling from her newest wound. He pressed against the knife in her side and she gritted her teeth. She could tell it was a small blade, both by how it felt and the fact that he’d been playing with it before she’d passed out the first time. Nothing too big to start with. He wanted this to last, sick freak.

“Fuck off.” She spat. Her helmet was gone, now. Probably removed while she was out. That was a very very good sign. The fact that her armor was gone was not. It had offered her some protection from the previous beating, saving her from the worst of it. She was down to the leggings she wore under her suit and her sports bra. 

Anxiety began to truly twist in her stomach. She did her best to control her breathing. She just needed to hold out until the cavalry arrived.

He dug his fingers into one of her wounds, pulling a muffled groan of pain from her. “Now, little Hoodie, you’re in no position not to mind your manners.”

_Arrogant bastard_. A snarl rose from deep in her chest as she imagined ripping his throat out with her teeth. 

“Oh, listen to this, boys.” Black Mask mocked, “The little omega bitch thinks she’s dangerous.” The naked eyes of the mask stared into hers in challenge, “She doesn’t realize she’s been declawed.” It was the first thing with any substance he’d said since he’d strung her up around an hour ago.

“That was this bullshit’s about now?” She growled, exasperated. “You found out I was an omega and your pride took a hit? A big alpha like Black Mask can’t protect his shipments from an omega like Red Hood?”

He snarled and twisted his hands in her hair, wrenching her head back and baring her throat. “Bad enough you were female!” He rancid breath washed over her face as she bared her teeth in defiance, “Then to find out you’re a _bitch_, too? Need to show you your place!”

Electric trails of fear laced through her. Every omega, every woman, knew that threat, knew what it _meant_. Lived with that threat daily. She immediately stomped on the emotion, desperate to keep it from leeching past the scent blockers she always wore on patrol. It would only excite him.

“Standing on the ruins of your organization?” She quipped, with a forced lightness she definitely did not feel. The tip of a knife trailed across her abdomen, across the bruises from the earlier beating, digging in enough to hurt but not enough to break skin… yet. 

“At the feet of an alpha.” He growled in her ear. Her stomach turned in revulsion. The blade moved to her throat, tip tracing over her mating mark. “And not one of those weak Bat Pack alphas. They obviously don’t know how to keep their omega whores in line.”

That pulled a small, pained, but genuine laugh fell from her lips. He released her in surprise. “Bat Pack?” She asked, “Is that really what you think? That I’d have, who? Nightwing? I’d rip that showy bastard’s throat out before he could lay a hand on me.” _Delay. Play for time. _“He couldn’t handle an omega like me. Maybe Red Robin? Perhaps the _Bat himself?_” She growled another laugh. “Your intel must be complete shit if you thought any of them were _my alpha._” She paused a moment to catch her breath.

“Oh, Roman.” She chided theatrically, and a little laboriously, “My mate is so much _better _than them... Though, _any _member of the Bat Pack would be a better alpha than _you_.” The man darted forward and backhanded her across the mouth, furious at the slight. The coppery tang of blood was heavy on her tongue and she could feel it trail down her chin. She spat. No use in making herself nauseous by swallowing it.

“By the way,” she muttered, stumbling a bit over her sore tongue, “how long has it been since you took off my helmet?” She saw the Mask’s men shuffle and look at each other confused but surprisingly not completely stupid. It was a rather nonsensical question. Out of context. Out of order. _It meant something._

Roman himself barked to his men, “Destroy the helmet!” His movements sharp, anxious.

“Too late.” She sing-songed a bit breathlessly at him. “But yeah, please, destroy it. Just do it over _there_.”

“What does it do?!” He demanded, flashing his knife and stepping close again. He growled in fury.

“How long has it been since it was removed?” She asked again, staring at him in challenge but tracking the blade as he shifted around.

“I’m asking the questions!” Black Mask hissed at her as he dug the blade into her side and started carving. Her teeth dug into her lip to stifle a scream. “Tell me!” He growled, alpha demand dripping along every word.

He was gonna find out soon anyway, was her pride worth the healing time? “To be clear,” She gasped, “I’m telling you this because it doesn’t matter. Not because of your bullshit alpha posturing.” That earned her another new scar over some of the lovely blooming bruises. Jay cried out as the blade dug in again.

Fingers wrapped around her throat, “Tell me!” Frustration leaked from his voice as he demanded his answer.

“If it's not removed in the right way, a countdown timer starts.” Her voice was tight and harsh. “If the correct sequence isn’t entered within that time period, a distress signal is sent and a tracking chip is activated.” 

“You really want to hope that the distress signal went to the Bats.” She whispered hoarsely, malice sparkling in her eyes beside the agony. “Because my mate was scheduled to be back in town tonight and if he’s within 50 miles the signal gets sent to him instead.” 

A feral grin stretched across her mouth, blood staining her teeth. “_How lucky are you feeling tonight, Roman?_”

An explosion rocked the warehouse, rattling the crates around them and sending the henchmen to the floor. Sionis barely managed to stay standing. Jay bit her lip to keep in her moan of pain as the chain she was hooked to shook and swung with the shockwaves, jerking her shoulders.

Panting, she looked up and _smiled_. Sionis felt a shiver of fear race through his spine at the expression. “Looks like your luck ran out.” They could hear the sharp report of gunfire and cries of the wounded and dying echoing from the other room. Jay laughed softly, mercilessly, at the frightened look on Roman’s face. 

_ Bats don’t use guns. _The noise of the weapons was only driving in the fact that he had no idea who he was going to be dealing with very very shortly. “I wouldn’t bother running.” She offered. “You won’t get far.”

He snarled at her and ordered his henchmen into the other room. They were only delaying the inevitable. Jay was probably enjoying this too much but she had not been happy with her hospitality at Black Mask’s hands. Or, you know, anything he had done ever. She was fine with the fate he had brought down upon himself. 

Of course, she’d always been willing to shed a little blood to get the right results. She’d only stopped for the sake of peace with the Bats. She wondered, sometimes, if Bruce had ever known, ever realized, that her first kill had been before she’d ever stolen his tires. 

It didn’t take too long for the gunfire to die down and she wasn’t at all surprised when the mob boss pressed the barrel of a gun to her head and faced the doors... waiting. Of course, he was going to try that. Cliche son of a bitch. She pushed aside her pain, summoned her strength and tensed, waiting for her chance to strike.

They didn’t have to wait long. The double doors flew open with a heavy kick from the other side. Black and orange armor glinted in the lights as her alpha stormed through the portal like a conquering lord. She could hear his deep-chested growls and something within her purred in response.

“_Deathstroke?!_” Roman choked and the barrel of the gun wavered. Seeing her chance, she wrenched herself up, her shoulders _screamed_, and slammed her bare feet into the back of his weak knee. Not enough to damage but enough to make him stumble. Her vision greyed out in agony.

Slade took the shots and Roman shrieked as both knee caps were obliterated with extreme prejudice. With quick strides, Deathstroke closed the distance and scooped the gun up, keeping it out of the hands of the now sobbing and panicking man. Slade stood over Roman for a moment, scanning the mess with his eye, before blowing out his elbows with two more precise shots. 

He turned on his heel to see to Jay where she hung. “Dao gǎm.” He rumbled in comfort as he looked her over critically, taking note of the bruises, the lacerations, and the knife still buried in her side. His blue eye glinted in rage. His scent, heavy with fury and protection, washed over her. She wanted to greet him, smile at him, tell him how much she missed him… but now that he was here, now that she was _safe_, she felt like she could barely move. All the fight had left her.

Hot tears escaped her lashes. Shit, she didn’t give them _permission _to do that. A warm palm gently caressed her bruised cheek. “It’s alright.” The roll in her alpha’s voice was pitched to soothe her. “Let go. You’re safe.” Her tenuous grip on consciousness slid out of her grasp completely and she fell into the black. 

\---------------

She roused to the lovely sound of Roman’s screaming. 

Swimming in the scent of her mate, she felt no worry or fear. She took drowsy stock of the situation. She’d been moved. (Thank god she’d been out when he took her down. She could feel the sharp ache in her shoulders from being stuck like that for so long.) Her torso was bandaged. She imagined if she looked she’d find Slade’s clean, neat stitches underneath. She was pretty sure she’d been washed and dressed in her favorite pajamas, as well. She shifted and winced as plaster scraped against skin. Well, shit. Looked like they had broken that ankle after all.

Teal eyes skimmed quickly over her surroundings. This was their workroom. A little dangerous, bringing a prisoner back home. Not from Sionis, of course. He wasn’t leaving alive. Only from the Bats… but she trusted her mate to clean up after himself. Jay snuggled into the couch, pulling the blanket Slade’d wrapped her in a little tighter, and watched. 

Her mate was precise, wielding one of Roman’s favorite weapons against him and drawing noises the bastard hadn’t managed to pull from her. She knew he didn’t normally _enjoy _torture. It wasn’t her preferred method, either, though neither of them shied away from it. This was revenge. 

If she wasn’t mistaken, it would be a _lesson_, as well. She idly wondered when the body might turn up. Too long and it wouldn’t have the intended impact. Too quickly and it would be difficult to fly under Bruce’s radar.

The Bats would be combing over the warehouse right now, actually. No way had the explosion and following shootout escaped their notice. She wondered how much cleanup Slade had done. If her blood was still on the scene, they’d be able to put together what happened. She could expect a few phone calls. 

Slade’s gaze caught hers as he took a moment to check on her. He looked fierce, nearly _savage_, with a swatch of Mask’s blood smeared across his cheek and arterial spray across his bare chest. It made something inside her twist in feral satisfaction. Her mate had hunted and killed _for her_. An unmatched protector.

He switched his gaze back to the sniveling wreck on the floor. With one smooth motion, he snapped Sionis’ neck, dropping the body at his feet.

A satisfied purr rumbled from her throat before she’d realized it was even forming. Slade smirked at her, pleased, and wiped the blood from his hands and chest as he walked over. He dropped the cloth and caressed her cheek. “Forgive me for not putting you in bed right away.” He rumbled. “I wanted you in my sight.” She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.

“It was a good view to wake up to.” She commented. 

He hummed in agreement and announced, “Time for bed.” She nodded and started to sit up, gritting her teeth as the movement tugged at her injuries. “Oh, hell, _no._ That was not what I meant.” He growled at her and swept her into his arms. 

She gasped in surprise and outrage, “I can walk!”

“Like _hell_.” He rumbled and swiftly moved up the two flights of stairs to their bedroom. He gently placed her in their bed, still pouting at being carried, and turned to slip into the bathroom. He returned with a glass of water and a couple of pills.

“No.” She stated flatly. She hated pain meds. He knew she hated pain meds. He knew why she hated pain meds. Images of her mother flashed through her mind. She had worked with a doctor and a pharmacist, at her mate's insistence, to get a formula that was actually effective on her altered physiology. She was not ungrateful at the result… but she _hated taking pain meds._

“Yes.” He calmly replied, arching a brow at her. “You’re hurt. You won’t sleep well without them.” Not to mention the sedative effect would keep her ass in bed for a few days and off that damn ankle.

“I don’t like taking them.” She grimaced.

“I know.” He acknowledged. “But you only need them for a few days and you’ll get better quicker if you take them.” She stared at him grumpily, unwilling to budge. “If you don’t take them willingly, I’ll just dose you once you’re out.” He threatened, narrowing his eyes at her. 

She grimaced. He would, too, the bastard. He was horribly demanding when it came to her health. She sighed and took the little blue pills, finishing the water off slowly. He changed into a pair of sleep pants and carefully slipped into bed next to her, gently tucking her into his side. She melted into him, floating in the haze of _safehomemate _that his scent evoked in her.

Just before she drifted off, she muttered, “Thank you for coming for me.”

“_I will always come for you, dao gǎm._” He promised.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "This Means War" by Marianas Trench.
> 
> "Dao găm" - Vietnamese for "dagger" (According to Google Translate. Please correct me if I'm wrong.)
> 
> I had so much trouble with this fic. I just could not write what happened after Slade saved her. I went through three different endings before this one made the cut. I'm not 100% happy with it but I do like it. Feedback is always appreciated.
> 
> I wanted to show that despite Batfam influence, Jay is still pretty vicious which helps make the two a good match in this AU. 
> 
> Side note: I desperately had to restrain myself from using "Do you feel lucky, Roman?"
> 
> Edit: You can find me on Tumblr @ https://primeemeraldheiress.tumblr.com/


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